


retribution

by Jacks8n



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: About 10 years post-canon, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 05:04:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11913789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacks8n/pseuds/Jacks8n
Summary: Killua is dead and Gon confronts his father.





	retribution

Gon stood underneath the overhang of the hotel hosting the Yorknew City auction. The yoyo, an unconventional fusion of toy and weapon, was heavy in his palm. He absentmindedly let it fall, then spooled it back up, over and over again. Rain dropped from the sky in a sheet, and music from the front lobby leaked out into the thick night air. Just on the other side of the wall, chandeliers glimmered and people danced and alcohol spun the night into a party. Gon wasn’t here for the auction, though.

Tonight, he would kill Silva Zoldyck.

Killua wouldn’t have approved. It didn’t matter what they had done. Killua had loved them, and he had never wanted them dead.

Gon disagreed. He wanted to hunt them down. He wanted to avenge. And with Killua—

And with Killua—

He had no more reason not to. The restraint holding him back had boiled away into a rage so thick that it set his chest aflame and made his vision constrict upon itself. It had fueled the search for his father-in-law and stoked his resolve into a fire that burned out of control.

Gon took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Anger was useful. But it was no way to win a fight. He let it evaporate from his body like mist off a pond. Its departure left him feeling hollow. Gon left the space empty, and when his eyes opened, the passion was gone. In its place stood a brutal ruthlessness.

It was time.

He caught the yoyo in his hand. It was stored in his pocket for safekeeping, and then Gon was scaling up the side of the building. Rain soaked him to his skin and forced him to squint as he looked up. Chunks of concrete dropped to the sidewalk in the wake of his grip. Up and up and up, all the way to the top of the grand building.

The roof was cluttered with access doors and piping. If Silva were trying to hide, he would have had a dozen options. But Silva wasn’t hiding. He leaned against an air conditioning unit, his arms crossed, a vision of grace and comfort. Gon had to intentionally straighten himself from the animalistic stance he had dropped into.

“Did you think I wouldn’t know you were here?” asked Silva.

Gon did not speak. He had turned himself into a conduit through which justice could act. Justice had nothing to say to Silva Zoldyck.

For the longest time, neither of them moved. Gon’s stare was accusing and unrelenting. Silva tried to appear unconcerned, as though Gon was as insignificant as an ant. Gon swallowed a lick of satisfaction as Silva adjusted his arms. Nervous. Trying to hide it.

“I’m sorry,” said Silva. Gon’s resolve didn’t waver. “I know how close you two were.”

Gon moved deliberately to pull the thin silver chain out from under his shirt. He held it up, as far as he could with it still around his neck, and let the ring glint in the sickly red light from the haze above.

Silva’s expression softened, if only for a moment. “I can’t believe you didn’t invite us.” Later, Gon would laugh at the genuine emotion hidden by the dry sarcasm. It was as amusing as it was revolting how unaware they were of the chasm between them and their son.

Gon returned the ring. Just a moment in the air had cooled it, and he could feel it stinging against his skin. He balled his fists at his sides.

Silva pushed out from his lean and started walking—not directly at Gon, but circling. He was looking for an opening. Gon did not intend to give him one. He turned to keep facing Silva and lowered into a more practical stance. Silva’s expression twitched, the crack in his facade revealing the annoyance and anger beneath. Resentment too, for the boy that had stolen his son away.

Silva lunged, and Gon grunted as he dived out of the way, every ounce of training he’d put in over the past decade barely enough to stop Silva from slitting through his throat. All he had to do was evade for a little while. He spun, keeping Silva in his sight. 

Silva snarled. “You made him weak,” he spat. He swiped at Gon again, and Gon evaded as he had the time before. This time, Silva jumped back, circling again. Adrenaline made Gon’s hands shake. He fought the waver in his grip to keep his fists balled.

Lightning snapped through the air and a crack of thunder followed it. The water crashed down harder than before, hail arriving to pelt them. Silva was breathing heavily, his arms out from his sides.

Gon knew that Silva wouldn’t be leaving the fight until one of them was dead. Anyone else and he would have walked away. But Gon was not anyone else. He was the pinpoint upon which Silva cast his anger like a laser. He was a weed that had exploded from a crack between bricks to choke out the entire garden. He had let Silva’s labour rot on the ground like fallen apples. He was the uncontrolled variable that had torn apart a centuries old dynasty from the heart out. Silva had wanted to keep his son loyal; killing Gon would have jeopardized that. Not killing Gon hadn’t worked either, though. Gon’s mere existence, alive or dead, was irreparable. Gon had run off with his greatest achievement and left his family in chaos. And now, Silva was going to exterminate Gon or die trying rather than live to witness the slow, fizzling fall.

All Gon had to do was be patient and wait for the dam to overflow.

“He would be alive if it weren’t for you,” said Silva. His image split like a fractal before he reached for Gon, hand bladed to rip out his heart. Gon used the instant of warning to twist out of the way. He jumped back with a stumble, his arms raised for balance.

Silva turned to him. Rage contorted his features, wrinkling his nose and brow and pulling his lips up into a snarl. Gon watched on.

“Do you know what you did to him?” asked Silva, walking straight for him. “Do you have _any idea_ what his life would have looked like without you?”

Gon stepped out of the way as Silva dove once again, then corrected as Silva moved to kick out his legs. He ducked under the hand that reached to grab his skull, then Gon leapt back, landing with a small skid. He was panting heavily now. Silva shouted in frustration.

“He would have had _everything._ He would have been a _king,_ and you _stole_ that from him.”

Gon rolled out of the way as Silva threw a blast of Nen at him. The purple sphere reduced an access shed to rubble. Gon ran, and the explosions followed on his heels. He only needed a few more seconds.

Silva stopped, and looked at Gon with open shock and a whisper of fear. Silva scrunched his eyes closed and gritted his teeth in an open snarl. He had allowed Gon to get under his skin.

Gon took advantage of Silva’s inner turmoil to center himself. He knew that he was ready.

Justice had nothing to say to Silva Zoldyck. He was irredeemable; he had killed for the joy of it and groomed his children to do the same. He had turned them into weapons, and then had the nerve to be surprised when the barrels turned to point at him. He had marked his toddler son to inherit a life of violence and gore and rot and slaughter. He had built Killua from the outside in, neglecting the child in favour of the tool. Justice had nothing to say to Silva Zoldyck because he was beyond redemption. There was nothing left to do than deliver unto him his punishment.

But Gon Freecs wanted to twist the fucking knife.

“He was happy, away from you.”

Silva roared, exploding at Gon with untempered rage. His Nen crackled and boomed as it expanded. Gon jumped, flying over Silva’s head and twisted as he did so. Silva whirled to face him, and by the time he realized what had happened it was too late. Gon’s fist shone with the Nen he’d been pooling since showing Silva the ring. It connected with Silva’s chest, and Gon felt the ribs and sternum shatter, organs underneath exploded by the force.

Silva’s body flew over the side of the roof. Gon walked to the edge in time to see it hit the pavement.

A couple on the sidewalk screamed. A car slammed to a stop, horn blaring. Men in suits rushed out, pouring from nondescript doors like rats.

The ruthlessness faded and Gon was left with the grief that crushed upon him so heavily he may as well have been holding up the sky. The emptiness left in Killua’s wake wasn’t filled, and living, existing without him, was still so painful that Gon wanted to drop to his knees and sob. Silva’s death had not alleviated his own suffering, nor had Gon expected it to. He doubted he would ever live a day where he didn’t wish he could talk to Killua, see his smile, and hear his laugh so strongly that it felt like an ache in his chest.

If Killua slept beneath the earth, if his kindness and self-sacrifice had damned him to a short and vicious life, if he would never get to heal and grow and thrive outside the shadow of his family, then Gon could not have allowed Silva Zoldyck to live another day.

His name is crossed off the list.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Ash for beta reading! You have saved me once again.


End file.
